


Gifts From a Ghost

by TimMcGee



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse/Trauma, Low Charisma Friends, Mentions of Sasha's Backstory, One Shot, Spoilers for Episode 29, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimMcGee/pseuds/TimMcGee
Summary: In which Sasha frets about the Dover jail conditions and Zolf isn’t quite sure how to handle the results.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	Gifts From a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Written in honor of my wonderful friend reaching episode 30 in Rusty Quill. Shout out to them for their amazing input and editing.
> 
> First time writing Rusty Quill fic so I hope I get the characters right.
> 
> Some messing around with the timeline and name of the jailer.

_ Click _ .

The quiet sound of the door latching behind her jolts Sasha out of her thoughts and she takes in the new lavish room she’s found herself in. As Sasha shuffles in place, she can’t help but look down to check that she isn’t dirtying the plush white carpet, wondering why all rich, fancy places only have light colors for everything. 

Stalking through the space and starting with the closet first, Sasha steadily makes her way around checking for traps and any secret hiding places. She’s not surprised to not find any but is happy to discover spare blankets in the closet, and various toiletries and spare plush towels in the attached bathroom. 

Slipping quickly back into the bedroom to grab a change of dry clothes, pleased that her new waterproofed bag works, Sasha goes to take a quick shower to wash the grime of the day and riot away. But the hot water lures her into a much longer shower as she lets the heat loosen up her muscles. 

By the time Sasha reenters the bedroom toweling off her hair, the lights are dimmed and Bertie’s snores can be faintly heard. Sasha idly spends the next couple of minutes storing her bag, Zolf’s trident, and double-checking the suite for anything out of place, before turning off the lights and falling into bed.

Sasha sinks into the soft mattress, feeling the day’s stress melt off her. Listening to the sound of rain pelt the balcony’s door, she watches the ceiling glitter as the flashes of lightning reflect in the crystal chandelier. Grabbing the nearest pillow and wedging it under her head, Sasha lets the dancing lights lull her towards sleep, at the last minute pulling half of the fluffy comforter before she succumbs to slumber.

A loud crack of lightning quickly followed by thunder that rattles the windows wakes Sasha with a gasp and daggers in her hands. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Sasha takes in the dark room before registering how the storm seems to be raging even harder now. As her heartbeat calms and sleep attempts to drag her under, Sasha finds herself unable to fall back asleep.

Carefully getting out of bed, Sasha rechecks the entire suite, smiling at the sight of Hamid's sprawled body trying to take up the entire bed. With everything exactly the way she left it earlier, Sasha heads back to her room and tries to fall back asleep but there’s still something niggling in the back of her mind.

Sasha spends the next hour tossing and turning; trying all sorts of combinations with the heaps of pillows and blankets already on the bed to get back to sleep. Laying on the floor is still softer than anything in Other London with one pillow and a blanket, Sasha is still searching for the reason why she can’t fall asleep. The wind rattles the window forcing the cold air through the cracks causing Sasha to reflexively curl up tighter in the blanket.

Sasha suddenly sits upright as she remembers hearing Zolf’s comment about the jail being cold as they left him there, alone, for the foreseeable future. If she’s cold in one of the fanciest places she’s ever been invited into, then Zolf must be freezing in jail. She normally was.

A few short minutes later Sasha is stepping back out into the storm with her bag carefully tucked underneath her leather jacket, battling the wind and rain the entire way to the jail. Relief washes through her as she grips the door tight to keep it from banging open in the wind, Sasha slinks inside taking in the dim lighting and sleeping guard at the desk.

Staying in the shadows of the entryway, Sasha patiently waits for the water to stop running off her, staying on the rug to avoid leaving any puddles. The moment she determines that she’s dry enough to continue, Sasha is halfway across the room moving quickly in the shadows while keeping an eye on the guard as he snores in his chair.

Entering the cell hallway and heading towards Zolf’s, Sasha glares at the sleeping forms of the rioters because if it wasn’t for them, Zolf wouldn’t be in this mess. Sasha falters at the sight of the brazier next to Zolf’s cell, awkwardly pulling up her jacket sleeve to test the temperature of the hallway before determining that it’s probably cold enough to be uncomfortable with a thin prison sheet.

Yanking her sleeve back down, Sasha approaches Zolf’s cell, hesitating when she sees him sleeping before frowning as she sees that he isn’t even under the covers that were given to him. Barely putting any effort into unlocking the cell, Sasha deftly slips inside and gently takes the book dangling in Zolf’s grasp, saving his spot with a scrap of paper and setting it by his pillow.

Sasha takes out the soft, tightly knitted blanket she swiped from the hotel, swiftly refolding it to the right size to cover Zolf in multiple layers without being too short on any side. In a vaguely familiar motion that tugs at buried memories, Sasha lays the blanket on Zolf, pausing as he shifts before relaxing with a sigh. 

Satisfied that Zolf will be alright especially seeing that the window isn’t even leaking the slightest bit, Sasha adjusts the blanket one last time before retracing her steps through the jail and all the way back up to their suite in the hotel. This time as she climbs into bed, Sasha curls up underneath the covers and relaxes back into an unremarkable sleep, content knowing that everyone is safe.

-

Zolf wakes up slowly as the morning sun makes his room much too bright much too early for his late night. Burrowing under the warm covers, Zolf wonders how long he has before someone comes to wake him up which will probably be when Hamid announces breakfast is ready. Just as Zolf is falling back asleep a loud door slamming causes him to sit upright, blindly grasping for a trident that isn’t there.

Blinking the sleep away, Zolf remembers that he’s in jail and that he definitely fell asleep on top of the covers whilst reading the book. Confusion flows through him as he absently fiddles with a corner of the blanket and surveys his cell which looks exactly the same as it did yesterday.

The cheery voice of the elderly jailer, Walter, echoes slightly in the mostly empty hallway as he talks to the rioters and hands out their breakfast. Scrubbing his face in an effort to wake up more, Zolf throws the blanket off and immediately regrets it as he finally feels how cold it is. Zolf quickly wraps himself back up in the blanket, gritting his teeth as even the brief time in the cold made his leg throb.

“Good morning, Zolf! What would you like for breakfast? I was thinking-” Walter, the jailer, pauses as he sees the blanket Zolf has, “Now where did you get that?”

“Ah, what?”

“Oh! I’ll get the heat going again! It’s really nippy this morning, ain’t it?,” Walter dismisses the new blanket assuming his replacement gave it to Zolf instead of refilling the brazier, taking the lazy way out like always. Stumbling off the cot, Zolf just makes it to his cell door before Walter disappears through the main door., “Ah, what? What did you mean ‘where did I get that’? Hello?? Ah, great. Just great.”

Zolf stomps back to the bed and begins unfolding the blanket to look for any identifying tags, barely getting anywhere as it rapidly becomes clear that the blanket is massive. Sighing quietly to himself, Zolf slowly refolds the blanket and searches thoroughly through the various folds and layers, sighing loudly when he finds in embroidered cursive script  _ La Rochelle _ .

Tucking the blanket away, Zolf makes a mental note to thank Sasha later and to have her return it before picking up the book to read while he waits for the jailer to come back. He can’t help the small smile that breaks through his quiet grumbling to himself when he sees the placeholder that Sasha must’ve saved his spot with.

* * *

Slinking  idly through the hallways of  _ La Rochelle _ , Sasha can’t help but feel bored. The storm is still going strong and she’s not interested in getting soaked again. Zolf is seemingly doing fine in jail especially with Walter working there during the day. Hamid is fine-tuning the case and that type of planning is no fun when he doesn’t even consider  _ her _ backup plans. Also, there’s only so much a person can take of Bertie, so she’s stuck wandering the hotel.

It stopped being fun a floor ago when all the rooms are exactly the same all the way down to the little containers of shampoo and conditioner which stopped being fun putting in her new bag after the first ten…fifteen rooms. The worst part is that she can’t even go into the occupied rooms because everyone is staying in from the storm, the vents are too small to sneak through, and the outside is too slippery to climb to the windows.

Slipping back into the elevator shaft, Sasha begins climbing back up towards the Penthouse floor, quickly reaching the little platform outside it. As she reaches for the door, Sasha hears Bertie cooing at Brutor and debates spending the night on this platform cause there’s only so much baby talk and poshness she can take.

A quiet ding followed by the whirring of gears brings Sasha’s attention to the rising elevator. As she’s looking down, Sasha spies another small platform on the other side of the shaft on the floor below that she missed in her earlier exploration. 

Leaping and grabbing the cables for the counterweight, Sasha feels a familiar rush as she finishes the journey to the platform, briefly wondering if she can convince Hamid to join her next time. Sasha slips into the corridor as the elevator comes to a stop on the floor below her and takes in the sparse hallway.

A handful of potted plants lines the hallway along with large paintings that filled the space between the four doors. Breaking into the first three rooms reveals identical large suites with mostly the same items as the smaller rooms, though Sasha did find a very nice fountain pen that got wedged in the back of one of the desk drawers.

Entering the last room, Sasha is momentarily surprised by the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the entry table before spying the notecard propped up against it. In a flash, Sasha reads the card welcoming the patronage of someone she doesn’t recognize and sets it back in place.

Reenergized, Sasha begins searching the room and is delighted to find an assortment of treats stashed in the kitchen’s cupboards taking only a few that look good and one that she’s pretty sure Hamid mentioned liking. 

Nearly humming in happiness, Sasha continues exploring the suite, quickly discovering the extra goodies the hotel has placed in the various closets and on the various tables throughout the rooms. 

The bathroom attached to the largest bedroom is the last room Sasha investigates. Going through the sink’s cabinet and the large shower, Sasha finds even more containers of various creams and goopy liquids. Smelling the various containers just causes her to sneeze harshly at the overwhelming scent of flowers that comes from the creams but hums in delight at the tantalizing scent of vanilla from the goopy liquids.

Sasha puts the containers of the vanilla-scented stuff into her bag, curious to try them out later, and finishes her search by going through the small closet hidden behind the bathroom door. At first, all Sasha sees is the same fluffy towels that have been in every room, but then she spies a wooden box with  _ La Rochelle _ embossed on the lid.

Taking it out, Sasha hops up to sit on the counter while carefully holding the box in her lap, excitement flowing through her as her hands trail around the outside, feeling for any traps or secret compartments.

Unfortunately like everywhere else in this hotel, there isn’t even a simple lock on the box. Huffing in annoyance, Sasha opens the lid and cocks her head in confusion at the assortment of objects inside.

Drumming the sides of the box, Sasha realizes that the box is deeper than what she’s currently looking at and swiftly removes the tray, revealing another assortment of objects.

Sasha decides to look at the items in the tray first, quickly figuring out that it’s a shaving kit when she unfolds a shiny straight razor. Making an unimpressed noise at the balance and maneuverability of the razor after she tested one of the most basic knife tricks with it, Sasha puts it back since it’s not worth stealing when she has 14 amazing daggers.

Fiddling briefly with the weird leather strap and trying to figure out what the use of it would be, Sasha places the leather strap back in its spot and picks up the stubby brush handle. The soft bristles tickle her palm in such a memorizing way that Sasha spends the next few minutes just playing with it, twirling and twisting it, scrunching it into her palm.

As she turns her attention to the small metal container, Sasha carefully places the brush back in its spot, petting the soft bristles one last time. Opening the container, Sasha sees white soap perfectly packed inside with  _ LR _ engraved in the center. The light citrus scent that wafts up brings up a long-forgotten memory of the first time she and Brock ate stolen oranges, the scent lingered on their hands for the rest of the day.

Settling the soap container gently back into its space, Sasha softly taps on its top as she considers the objects in the other half of the box. Taking out a fine looking pair of scissors Sasha immediately takes out one of the notepads she had swiped earlier and tries to cut a piece of paper. Sasha quickly becomes disgruntled at how terrible these scissors are but looking at the scissors closer, she realizes that they’re for cutting hair.

Twisting around, Sasha considers her hair in the mirror before shrugging, having decided to try scissors this time rather than daggers. After the first couple of snips at her hair, Sasha is quite pleased with the ease this kind of scissors have with cutting hair and a short time later she’s done.

Ruffling her shorter hair in part delight and in part to get the stray hairs to fall into the sink, Sasha cleans up before investigating the last couple of objects in the box. A fine-tooth comb along with a different, weird rounded brush with rough prickly bristles, are quickly picked up and set back down.

The last two items are taken out and Sasha holds the small dropper bottle up to the light as she sets another small metal container down on the counter. Watching the oil slowly swirl inside as she tilts the bottle, Sasha brings it back down and reads its label before picking up the container and reading its label on the bottom.

Humming happily, Sasha quickly re-packs the box before putting in her bag. As she makes her way back to the Ranger’s room, Sasha is already planning out tomorrow morning for when she’s going to test some of this fancy stuff out and when she’s going to go on her errand.

-

The sound of running water is replaced by the sound of squeaking metal before silence fills the locker room. Zolf sighs, brushing his wet hair out of his face in annoyance before carefully reaching for and grabbing one of the towels.

THUNK.

Freezing with his arm still outstretched holding the towel, Zolf listens for any other sounds before cautiously calling out, “Hello?”

Only the quiet dripping from the showerhead behind him answers his question. Quickly wrapping the towel around his waist, Zolf shuffles forward, avoiding the remaining puddle, to see what must have been the source of the noise.

A smaller wooden box sits right up against the second towel on the end table, it must’ve been propped up on the stack of towels and when he grabbed the first one, it slid down onto the table. Shivering in the drafty room, Zolf quickly takes the second towel, roughly toweling off before wrapping his hair in the towel.

Grabbing the box, Zolf carefully makes his way over to the bench where his clothes and peg leg are. Partially dressing first, Zolf opens the box curiously which quickly turns to indignation at the sight of a shaving kit. 

“Who the fuck gave me- Why on earth- I not shaving for the fucking court-martial-“ Zolf set the box down angrily. It clatters unexpectedly. Giving it a wary look, Zolf picks it up again and takes out the first tray, revealing the beard grooming kit underneath. “Oh.”

With a faintly trembling hand, Zolf removes the boar brush, his fingers brushing against the rough bristles. He’s taken back to a time when he was first learning to care for his new beard from his father, spending that morning in the cramped bathroom.

A knock on the door followed by Walter calling interrupts his memories, “Mr. Smith? Everything alright in there?”

“Ah-um, yeah…yeah, everything’s alright. Just-just taking my time.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll start on making some tea for you and your team. They did say they were stopping by this morning, didn’t they? So great that you have help, especially that lovely young woman  _ Sasha, she’s quite lovely to talk to… _ ” Walter’s voice fades away as he heads back to the kitchen before Zolf even has a chance to respond.

Torn between calling Walter back to ask him what he and Sasha have been talking about, and finishing up, Zolf settles with a sigh and another mental note to ask later. Picking up the grooming kit, Zolf stomps his way over to the sink and mirror, briefly struggling to balance the box on the edges of the sink before wedging it slightly between the wall and faucet.

Brushing the tangles out of his hair first, Zolf takes out the comb and scissors and begins carefully trimming away most of the damage that it has accumulated in the last few weeks. 

Something settles inside as Zolf takes back control of his appearance even though there’s little visible change. Zolf puts the scissors back and spends the next few minutes carefully combing any tangles out and gets out the remaining loose hairs.

Cleaning up the mess in the sink first, Zolf then takes out the bottle of beard oil and the container of beard wax, opening and smelling both of them. His eyebrows raise as he’s surprised and impressed by the fact that there isn’t an overwhelming scent considering this was definitely meant for a rich person and some really try to over-perfume themselves.

The piercing whistle of the tea kettle jolts Zolf into moving faster to work the beard oil in, pausing just briefly to appreciate how much better it’s looking when he finishes. Zolf efficiently returns the supplies back into the box, stomping back over to the bench to finish getting dressed.

A short time later Zolf is sitting in the consultation room with some food and tea, waiting for his team to arrive. Just as he is starting to consider asking Walter to grab him a book, Zolf hears the front door slam open followed by Bertie’s bellows and Hamid’s apologies.

Running his fingers through his beard, Zolf plans to pull Sasha to the side to thank her for the kit and possibly try and give her another ‘stealing is bad’ talk. Especially if the kit wasn’t a part of the fancy hotel’s complimentary stuff.

Hamid and Bertie enter the room, each saying their greetings before Hamid begins laying out pieces of paper with the case information and Bertie boasts about the truly wonderful night at the spa most of the team had. Sidetracked by the information revealed about the shipwreck, Zolf completely misses Sasha slipping inside and leaning against the wall in a corner.

A polite knock draws all of their attention to the door, Walter enters carrying mugs of tea along with some pastries. As he turns his attention back to the papers, Zolf jolts in surprise at Sasha chilling in the corner.

“Sasha! When did you come in?” Hamid quickly draws her into the discussion about the trial before Zolf even has a chance to speak with her as everyone resumes their focus back on the task at hand again.

By the time they’ve finished eating lunch, he still hasn’t managed to thank Sasha. Zolf is feeling acutely aware of the awkwardness as time stretches between receiving the gifts and him still not saying anything to Sasha. None of the rest of the team has commented either. Zolf doesn’t even get a chance later when it’s time for them to leave because Sasha had slipped away to chat with Walter before he could catch her. 

* * *

_ Escape _ _. Escape. She needs to escape. They’re coming to get her, to bring her back, to lock her away. Melting into shadows, she doesn’t feel the slightest bit relieved that the pounding footsteps and saccharine voice stops calling for her. Instead, a different kind of horror fills her as the shadows burn away in a bright spotlight. Mocking laughter mixes with disapproving tsks filling the room as the spotlight reveals a ballroom. She stumbles, finding herself in heels, as she is pulled by an ice-cold hand that squeezes tighter and tighter through the ballroom. The bright flashy dresses of the dancers becoming a dizzying and sickening display as they spin faster and press in ever closer.  _

_ Soon the mass of flashy dancers prevents her from moving any further. Pressing in and in and in till the only thing Sasha can do is drop to the floor. Dropping down. Down. Falling. The terror constricts her chest as the enveloping darkness is interrupted with a bright burst of an explosion, a rumbling filling her ears and a familiar dark shape rocketing towards her- _

**BOOM**

Sasha leaps up, slashing out wildly with her daggers. A  **crack** of lightning spins Sasha around as she desperately stabs at the sudden light before collapsing to her knees on the bed; panting harshly as she stares unseeingly out the window. The next flash of lightning brings Sasha out of her daze. She drops her daggers onto the bed before collapsing between them.

Sasha brings her knees in to hug them, her hands gripping the opposite arm with bruising force, trying to restore some point of control. It’s several flashes of lightning later before Sasha releases her tight grip. A few more before she begins meticulously looking over her daggers, calming herself down with the reassurance that she can defend herself and her friends.

Knowing there’s very little chance of falling back asleep, Sasha gets dressed before inspecting the entire suite. She pauses briefly to adjust the blanket that was falling off Hamid and smiling when he makes a content hum, falling into a deeper sleep.

The steady sound of rain against the windows is the only noise that can be heard in the living room where Sasha has set-up her watch. As one hour creeps into two with little change in the suite, Sasha’s thoughts lose their tense alertness as her anxiety for Zolf’s trial later in the morning slowly replaces it.

Hamid’s earlier reassurances are soon swept away as memories of times where, just before a trial, Barrett would send minions into the jail. Or he had some of his cops go rough up the prisoner to assure Barrett’s preferred result of the trial. Whether it be through their permanent silence or a guilty plea to get a short trial and fewer truths said on the stand.

Sasha makes up her mind and with one last scan, heads out into the rain, determined to keep watch over Zolf.

Soon, Sasha is sneaking back inside the jail, unease building in her gut at the sight of the empty guard desk. Then the shriek of a kettle immediately followed by a clattering and swearing, momentarily assures her that the guard isn’t down at Zolf’s cell. 

As a quiet clattering begins in the kitchen, Sasha hurries to Zolf and nearly slumps with relief at the sight of him unharmed and snoozing away. Leaning against the iron bars, Sasha debates returning to the hotel or keeping watch over Zolf till Walter gets in.

Knowing that she’s triple checked the suite, Sasha knows that it’s as secure as she could get it without making it dangerous for Hamid or Bertie to stumble upon. Plus factoring in the storm outside and the benefits it lends to securing the outside of the suite, Sasha decides she’ll keep watch over Zolf. 

Sasha creeps back down the hallway to check on the guard, who’s settled in with his feet up on the desk, a book in his hand, and a steaming mug next to him, so Sasha calmly heads back.

Walking down the jail hallway Sasha pauses and gives the coals in the brazier a couple of pokes to get them going again to cut down the chill in the air. As she unlocks the cell door, Sasha can’t help grumbling to herself about the whole stupid situation Zolf is in as there isn’t even a good lock on the door. There were better locks in Hamid’s apartment.

Curling up on the floor at the corner of the far end of the cot, Sasha carefully hides from view while still keeping her sightline open. Zolf’s deep breathing and occasional snore settles Sasha, assuring her that he’s safe for now.

Without Sasha really noticing, the brazier slowly warms this end of the jail until her rain damp clothes begin drying out again. Spring-loaded daggers at the ready, Sasha falls into a light doze as the combination of exhaustion and stress from the nightmare as well as the team being separated finally catches up to her.

-

A few hours later, Zolf wakes up at what would’ve been a lovely sunrise if it wasn’t still raining out. Rolling over so he’s staring up at the ceiling, Zolf listens to the rain and lets his mind wander to the trial that’s scheduled in a couple of hours.

Laying back and simply taking in the quiet morning, Zolf slowly begins to hear a soft whistling noise that seems to be coming from something in the room rather than from the storm. Carefully sitting up, Zolf looks around for the source of the noise, missing it until he spots something different at the end of his bed.

Curiosity quickly turns to worry when Zolf sees that it’s Sasha sleeping here instead of at the hotel. 

“ _ Sasha, _ Sasha-” Zolf cuts himself off as Sasha suddenly leaps up, slashing out with her daggers as if she wasn’t asleep just a moment before. Zolf feels a twinge of sadness at her response to being woken, but focuses on the more pressing issue, “Hey, hey, it’s just me, Sasha. What are you doing here?”

“Oh. Mornin’, Zolf.”

“...Good mornin’, Sasha. What are you doin’ here?”

“Oh, well ya see Barrett like to, ah well more like he liked to send  _ people _ like the night before someone’s trial to, ya know,” as Sasha starts her awkward rambling explanation, she works on stretching out the slight tightness in her shoulders from sleeping curled up, “Make sure they went along with what he wanted.”

“Sasha...They wouldn’t do that here.”

“Nah, see that’d be like the perfect cover cause like no one would believe you if you said anything cause like you’re AWOL and that’s like bad for some reason. Still not really sure on that cause like what if you-”

“Sasha, that’s not-” pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to figure out what he wants to address first, “Look Commander Barnes is a good guy- a good guy, Sasha. He was just doin’ his job! Look, just… he would listen if something like that happened, alright?”

Sasha grumbles to herself as she nods sulkily at Zolf’s answer and winds her daggers back in. Zolf shifts on the bed so that his legs are dangling off the edge, leaving enough space for Sasha to sit if she wants too.

Barely catching Sasha moving in the corner of his eye, Zolf waits for her to get comfortable next to him before speaking, “So, um ah, well I-I wanted to um, so I got some ah things the last couple of days that, well...Thank you.”

“Oh! Ah, no problem? Like I know jail is like no fun and like it’s always cold and since none of you would let me do the sensible thing…”

“Sasha, I-” Zolf is cut off by the slam of the front door followed by a cheery greeting. Turning to tell Sasha that she needs to go, Zolf blinks in surprise at the empty space next to him before quickly looking towards the cell door, and sees nothing, “.....How??”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for kudos and comments!


End file.
